Shelter
by Firefly-Maj
Summary: A lot of us have had Aragorn and Legolas imprisoned under dire circumstances at least once. This short episode shows such an occasion from their respective POVs. No Slash. Please R&R!


Disclaimer: the original characters and storylines are not mine but belong to Prof. Tolkien!

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**Shelter**

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His skin is cold to the touch, colder than it should be. He has lost his warmth too quickly, and I did not have any means to prevent it save what warmth was left in my own body.

I can feel how he is shaking, and it seems to pierce me, continuing within until my soul is shaking as well, being gripped tightly by the fear of losing him.

Sense of time has fled me long ago as we were oblivious to night and day in the impenetrable darkness of our prison.It would probably have made no difference anyway for me, had it not been for him, as despair had engulfed me, threatening to drown me within these walls.

Surrounded by rock and stone as we were, I felt suffocated and forlorn. For the first time in my long life I was cold and could not keep myself from shaking with dread, not being able to think clearly. The air was damp and smelled stale, and moisture seemed to cover every surface.

He had been strong for me then, had put his arms around me despite our bonds and held me close so that I felt his steady heartbeat and the texture of his clothing. He had started to sing for me, soft words of hope and light which engulfed me and calmed my mind, just like the familiarity of his embrace and smell.

When his voice had given out at some point due to the lack of water, he hummed. I rather felt the vibrations in his chest than heard it, but it created a sense of safety for me.

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He was determined to save my soul, but when they came and took him away, both of us were helpless, for they were too many and we were bound.

Alone in the dark, I curled up in a ball in a futile attempt to escape the walls, but they seemed to close in on me anyway. I concentrated hard on the faint reminder of his smell on my clothing, trying to imagine that he was with me still, and trying not to think of what they might be doing to him.

I failed and could not but weep, for I feared I had lost him. It would mean my end as well, if they did not kill me first; without him, I would have gone insane very quickly. I fell asleep and woke up to the sound of the door; while I still struggled to get to my feet, something had been shoved inside and the door had been closed again.

It was him, and although he did not look it, he was still alive. I knelt down next to him, breathless until I found that he was breathing, if only just so.

If I had not wept so much before, I would have dissolved into tears again, seeing my friend like that, bloodied and broken, and knowing that whatever they had done to him, it would not have been pleasant.

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He has woken up once, flinching while opening his eyes, and as I tried to calm him I realized that our roles were reversed now, that I had to be strong for him. I was not sure if I would be able to until he had looked at me; his eyes were pain-filled and dull, but I saw relief in them when he recognized me. I stroked his face, wishing to ease his pain, and asked him what had happened, but he was too weak to answer, and soon his eyes closed again.

It was then that I knew I had to be brave for his sake, because he needed me now that he could not be strong anymore.

Still I fear for him, and I do not know what to do if they come back for either of us. But I know I cannot give up hope, because that is what he would want me to do: cling to it by all means.

I move as close to him as possible and wrap my arms around him, despite the terrible coldness of his skin: I will not let him down.

o-O-o

The pain is there before I have even regained my senses; it penetrates the darkness that had mercifully embraced me earlier, helping me to escape my tormentors and the agony they were inflicting on me.

But now it seems that I cannot flee any longer, for the pain is back and the darkness leaves quickly as someone is holding me.

I do not find the strength to recoil, but despite my dread I open my eyes. There he is, a light figure, with fair features and kind eyes, not one of the foul dark breed. He seems familiar, and even though my vision is blurred I can see that he is worried, for his features are full of sorrow and concern now that our eyes meet.

His grip on me intensifies and I cannot but gasp in pain. He releases it at once, looking stricken and appalled. "Aragorn...", he says, sounding terribly forlorn. "I know it hurts...but it will be better soon, it will be alright... I am here with you, my friend." His voice grows steadier now: "I am here. I will take care of you. You can rest now..."

The words echo in my head until I realize that he has just called me by my name. My head feels like it is wrapped in cloth, and my thoughts are slow. But now I remember him, even if I still cannot recall his name. But he is my friend indeed, always has been, and that knowledge calms me.

Gently, he strokes my temple and my burning forehead, and it feels good.

"Oh Aragorn, what did they do to you?", he asks quietly.

I am too weary to answer, but it is a relief to know that he will not hurt me. His touch is helping me to forget the cold and the pain, and I can close my eyes for now, because I feel safe in his arms.

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**The End**

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End file.
